Nighthawks
by Polly Lynn
Summary: It's like watching two strangers who remind you of people you know. Her face is too open. His shoulders are too relaxed. But the rhythm is familiar. She's hiding behind her coffee cup. Then she isn't. His hand twitches toward hers and a few seconds later, he's actually reaching out for her. And they're holding hands. In public. Esplainie POV on Caskett in my story Calculation.


Title: Nighthawks

Rating: T (minor language, some suggestive dialogue)

Spoilers: Minor spoiler for Esplainie, but only if you haven't seen anything from Demons onward. It's set in Season 4 sometime between Kill Shot and Dial M for Mayor.

WC: ~2000

Pairing: Esplainie, Caskett (It's Esplainie's POV on Caskett)

A/N: Oh dear. It's another TARDIS-verse piece. This "arc" starts with my story TARDIS (Time and relative dimension in space), then comes Calculation, then Unexpected Light, and finally Circle 'Round the Sun. The stories are loosely connected for the most part, but this one is concurrent with Calculation. It probably won't make sense if you haven't read TARDIS and Calculation. The title refers to the Edward Hopper painting of the same name.

* * *

It takes every bit of skill from his combined Special Forces and ESU training to pull it off, but he's pretty sure that Beckett hasn't seen him. Yes, the waitress—_their_ waitress—thinks he's totally lost it now. But better that than a pissed-off Lanie coming down on him like . . .

_Yo! Focus, Javier. _

Speaking of Lanie . . . _shit_. He needs to head her off. He pulls up his texts and taps out another message: _Abort. Change of venue? _

He should make himself scarce. After those bad-ass evasive maneuvers, it'd be a shame not to make a clean getaway. He should definitely go.

Instead, he presses himself against the brick next to the diner's plate-glass window and does his best to see without being seen.

Beckett sits two booths clear of the window. She's facing him. This would be an even bigger risk if her attention weren't completely concentrated on her cell phone.

_Castle_. It has to be Castle. There's the lip bite and she goes right into the eye roll and . . . . _wait for it_ . . . yeah, the smile that made him wonder if someone had slipped her some _E_ the first time he saw it.

Suddenly, "Hips Don't Lie" is blaring from his phone. His heart practically leaps out of his chest and his fist makes contact with the plate glass as he fumbles to answer the call. Beckett's head snaps toward the window and he just manages to throw himself against the bricks and out of her sight line in time. He thinks. He hopes.

"What are you _doing_, woman?" he hisses into the phone.

"_You did _not _just call me woman." _

He can feel the blood drain from his face. "No. No! Look, Lanie, I . . . can't really talk. Name some place else, or . . ."

"_Baby, you _woke me up_ for one of your non-booty-call booty calls and now you're trying to get between me and a side of New Fancy Food bacon?" _

"You get to call me baby, but I can't call you woman?"

"_Javier . . . " _It's a warning. She must be feeling sentimental. She doesn't usually give warnings.

"Beckett's here." His eyes slide sideways, but Beckett is back to chewing on her lip and fiddling with her phone.

"_Beckett._ Kate _Beckett?_"

"No, _Samuel _Beckett," he snaps.

There's a pause. He can practically hear her blinking, _"Honey, you are spending too much time with Castle." _

"Yeah, well I'm not the only one." He doesn't bother to keep the smugness out of his voice.

"_She's with _Castle?" He hears a sudden flurry of movement in the background.

"Waitin' on him."

"_How do you know?" _

"Mad detective skills. Whoa, hold up." He shrinks back against the wall again as Beckett looks around, but she's just trying to catch the waitress's eye. The older woman looks surprised as she pours a second cup of coffee and jots something on her pad.

Beckett dumps a cream and two sugars into the fresh cup and watches the waitress thoughtfully as she stirs. Esposito chuckles, "Definitely waitin' on Castle."

"_Fifteen minutes." _Lanie's voice grows faint as she moves to end the call.

"Lanie, wait! We can't be here when Castle shows up!"

It suddenly hits him that the diner is less than a mile from Castle's loft. He scans the street, searching for a lookout with more cover. _No, not a lookout. Getting the hell out of here!_

"_Javier." _

He knows that tone. He _hates _that tone. (_He also loves it, but that's beside the point._)

"_Did you follow Beckett to that diner?" _

"No." He can't help sounding sullen.

"_Tap her phone? Are you stalking her?" _

"No. Lanie, c'mon." He _really _wants to get out of there, like three minutes ago.

She goes on without acknowledging him. "_Then you have just as much right to be there as she does. And you _know _I have a right to that bacon." _

"So you don't care if she knows we get together in the middle of the night?"

She snorts, _"Baby, that cat's been out of the bag for a while." _

"We broke up!"

"_Yes, we did. And a booty call now and then is to be expected."_

"Lanie." He's pleading now, and he doesn't care. "I'll come to your place."

He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. _Bad move. _

Lanie lets the silence do its work. "That _offer has already expired. Twelve minutes, Detective." _

* * *

_Thank you, New York. _There's a shuttered news stand with a shadowy corner about 10 steps from the diner window. Its sightline to Beckett's booth is perfect. He slips out of the copper pool of the street lamp just as Castle's footsteps ring out.

The writer shakes his head once, twice, opening his eyes wide as if willing the bite of the January wind to keep them open. Beckett is suddenly alert. Her eyes dart toward the door and fix on it. Castle is still a few steps away.

_Creepy. How do they do that? _Esposito catches himself just as he's about to lean too far out of the shadows.

Not like Castle would see him anyway. Not like Castle would see Beyonce offering him a lap dance right now. He stops short of the door and runs a hand through his hair. Takes a breath and tries to tone down his smile.

_Fail, bro, _Esposito then Beckett makes it a matching set with her smile before Castle is even through the door. It's disgustingly cute.

_Where the hell is Lanie_? He's cold.

Castle slides into the booth with his back to the window, and the two of them fall into a routine just like that. It's like watching two strangers who remind you of people you know. Her face is too open. His shoulders are too relaxed. But the rhythm is familiar. She's hiding behind her coffee cup. Then she isn't. His hand twitches toward hers and a few seconds later, he's actually reaching out for her. And they're _holding hands. _In public.

"Oh, dear Lord, they are holding hands in public," Lanie lets out a low whistle as she bumps a hip against his.

"Whoa!_" _Esposito clutches at her and tries to get his heart rate under control, "What're you thinking, sneaking up on me like that?"

Lanie raises an eyebrow. "Thought you liked when I got the drop on you, baby."

"I'll let you know if it ever happens, _chica,_" he fires back. It suddenly seems very crowded in the shadowy corner.

"Been a while," he says more softly.

"Whose fault is that?" She ducks under his arm and drops a kiss on his cheek to take the sting out of her words.

"Probably mine." He smiles down at her and tightens his arm around her shoulder.

"No 'probably' about it," she says as she settles comfortably against him. "So what am I looking at here?"

"Beckett put out the call." He hides a sly smile. "And I'm thinking it's not the first time."

"Beckett made a booty call? Beckett has been _making booty calls_?"Lanie makes a lunge toward the door.

Esposito barks out her name and just manages to snag her around the waist to haul her back into the shadows. She lets out an infuriated yelp. They freeze at the same moment, suddenly aware how loud they're being.

Perfectly synchronized, their heads swivel toward the diner window. The waitress is warming up coffee for Castle and Beckett. They're both smiling like they just invented the concept.

Lanie thinks that she and Javi could have been acting out their little scene on top of the lunch counter and neither of them would have noticed. She peels Esposito's hands from her waist. Snags his fingers loosely between her own. He clears his throat and looks sheepish.

"So what makes you think this is regular thing?" She takes a step back into the shadows and pulls him with her.

"Waitress knows Beckett, but she usually comes alone." Off Lanie's skeptical look, he adds, "Surprised the hell out of her when Beckett ordered food and a second cup of coffee."

Lanie gives a half shrug, "So _she_ comes here. Doesn't mean _they _come here. Could be a one-time thing."

"Does that look like a one time thing?" He jerks his chin toward the window.

Beckett is blushing into her coffee and Castle is leaning back into the booth. He throws one arm along the back, cocky and confident. Beckett's head snaps up and she says something sharp while a devastating grin tugs at the corners of her mouth. Castle leans his elbows most of the way across the table and says something that definitely has her attention. She throws her head back and laugh.

"It never does," Lanie says with a sigh.

Esposito gives her fingers a squeeze and they're quiet for a bit. The scene that's playing out on the other side of the glass is familiar, but . . . more.

"So what's your evidence that Beckett's the one doing the booty calling," Lanie asks after a while.

"_I_ never said it was a booty call," he points out.

"It's the middle of night. They were holding hands. And have you ever seen her make that much eye contact outside of an interrogation room? For Beckett . . ."

". . . that's a booty call," he finishes. "Sad."

"As I have pointed out on many occasions." Lanie shakes her head. "So, detective, the evidence?"

"Bed head. Clothes. Still waking up when he walked in the door," he says. "Our man Castle is looking not so fresh."

"Ooh, that shirt doesn't even have buttons," she agrees. "If it was Castle making the call, he'd have the look all put together."

"Like he's smooth."

"He is _so _not smooth," she laughs, "Not when it comes to Beckett."

As if on cue, Castle's spine stiffens and his hands are going crazy—fidgeting with the silverware, sloshing a good portion of the contents of his coffee cup into the saucer. Beckett is dividing her time between worrying a napkin to death and giving Castle one of those looks that is going to set fire to both of them one of these days.

"Oh, I have _got _to know what's going on with them," Lanie says suddenly and tugs on his hand.

He tugs back. "No way, Lanie. They look like they want company?"

"They're in a public place, and I want answers." She pulls her hand free and whirls around to face him, hands on her hips. "And bacon."

He slides his hands over hers and gently turns her back around. "Look at them," he says in her ear. "They're like . . . shell-shocked teenagers. You know if you go in there and out them, that's it. Whatever's going on is over."

"Don't you use your romantic voice on me, Javi," she snaps, but she's not pulling away any more.

"But it's working." He smiles against her shoulder.

"You keep telling yourself that." She bumps her head against the corner of his jaw. He kisses her. On the cheek but not quite innocent. They don't kiss again, but they get lost in each other a little while.

"Whoa! They're on the move," Esposito gasps and stumbles back, but there's nowhere to go.

"_Javi_," she whispers back urgently and presses herself against him. "Just. Don't. Move."

They huddle together by silent agreement, trying to make themselves into a single, innocent-looking shadow. The diner door swings open and they hear the hum of voices. The conversation a little stilted and too low to hear.

_Still_, Lanie thinks, _it seems . . . momentous. _

And then Beckett's voice, soft but clear, "Walk me home, Castle?"

And his in a happy rush, "Yeah, ok."

They set off. Castle's hands are in his pockets. Beckett's flutter uneasily a minute, then one settles on his sleeve, fiddling with a button, and her shoulders relax.

"_So_, not smooth," Esposito breathes.

Lanie smiles up at him, then nods toward the diner. "_Now_ can I have my bacon?"

He looks away, then down at the ground. After a beat or two, he meets her eye, "There's bacon at my place," he says with a shrug.

She gives him a hard look. Smiles again. "You gonna make it the way I like it."

"I always make it the way you like it, woman," he says as he slings an arm around her and leaders out of the shadows.


End file.
